


The Long Road Home

by levitatethis



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levitatethis/pseuds/levitatethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar's mind wanders while traveling with Maya and Alejandro to New York</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Road Home

_Something happened, that I never understood   
You can't leave   
(I could do most anything to you)   
_**-Snow Patrol, _Somewhere a Clock is Ticking_**

New York reaches up towards the sky on some distant horizon still well over a day away.

A reconstructed Babel.

In the backseat Alejandro's eyes scan side to side under partially opened eyelids as a dream of home and a less complicated time brings his mind some much needed peace.

Sylar; in the passenger seat looking over his left shoulder at the sleeping man who has directed suspicious looks and accusations his way since their first meeting, brings his eyes forward to the front of the car.

His eyes catch Maya's in the driver's seat when she momentarily removes her gaze from the road in front of her to look at him.

Her eyes are warm. They yearn shyly.

Sylar thinks to himself that this is far too easy. She does not realize she has a choice, that she could be the one to call the shots. The power that her ability affords her is incredible. Intuitively, Sylar has emotionally reached out to her; her welcoming emotional reach back tells him is right.

Fear can bring upon paralysis in many people. Too scared to think far ahead down the road, instead they jump and shriek at dark shadows and creaky doors, preferring to let someone else take the lead. On their own the twins were more independent than they are now with Sylar in the midst, they simply have not realized it yet. Human beings are funny creatures he thinks.

He would never complain about the control that Maya has handed him so trustingly, with such hope; it allows his mind to focus on more important issues.

Getting to New York.

Sylar does miss the challenge, however. He misses how carefully he had to construct the persona of Zane, the effort he took to ensure the legitimacy of his existence. His current version of Gabriel is nowhere near his strongest effort. It is barely the real Gabriel. It annoys Sylar how passable this version still seems to be.

He is better than this. They_ should_ be.

He thinks this same act would never have gotten by –

Her eyes remind him of –

They are not the same.

_His_ eyes were nervous and questioning at first, but still friendly. Later they were taunting and pushed Sylar. Dared him to make a stand or fold.

Maya's eyes are not the same, but for now they are enough.

 

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

 

Halfway there, New York pounds in his heart.

Sylar's body vibrates with expectations. There is an electric hum in the air. They are at a truck stop, the type that litters the sides of highways as travelers play connect the dots between destinations.

After a brief stretch of his legs around the parking lot, Sylar heads back towards the parked van where his companions are doing a terrible job of disguising the argument they are having. Spanish breaks across the concrete landscape. Sylar does not need to speak the language to understand the tone.

Even with confidence he treads carefully.

Alejandro's brooding eyes spot his return first. Anger all over his face he mutters something to Maya before getting into the backseat. Maya sighs and turns to see Sylar approaching. Sylar smiles at her.

Her smile is bright and sweet.

It welcomes him back and not so subtly, wordlessly, asks him to stay.

Sylar enjoys the admiration, the want she presents to him in the palm of her hands. It is too innocent, particularly for one capable of such horror.

He has gotten lost in that smile twice now when –

Her smile reminds him of –

It is not the same.

_His_ smile was all consuming, captivating. _His_ smile was calming, welcoming. It had power in it that could distract Sylar from the battle plans being set in motion right beneath his nose. Enticing and deliberate, _his _smile was a weapon.

Maya's smile is not the same, but it will suffice.

 

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

 

New York is at his fingertips. Sylar feels it pulse through his veins.

Guided by the moon and artificial lights that line the highway and burn bright from other cars, they steadily move along.

Alejandro floats between sleep and consciousness in the backseat. The vibration of the car lulls him into a dream state.

Sylar engages Maya in a conversation he has pre-meditatively thought out. Excitement takes a hold of her voice as she answers questions about her childhood growing up with Alejandro, before their abilities manifested. She shares quite freely with little prompting.

Sylar willingly gives up scraps of truth from his past but purposely leaves the whole picture incomplete. As far as he is concerned it is really none of her business.

There is one moment when his voice stutters, revealing far too much. Sylar is talking about _him_, although Maya thinks they are talking about the father, and his mind runs away to a dark corner where the possibility of not getting his powers back is too strong. Sylar catches himself as the latest face of the Gabriel persona slips off kilter. Maya does not notice the crack.

Her voice is light yet sultry. There is a suggestiveness to it that even she seems unaware of.

It is different than –

_His_ voice was rhythmic and inviting. There was a time it had reached assertive heights with defiant edges. At times solace was laced amongst the words, other times bitterness dripped from consonants and accusations.

To this day it was still the only time Sylar had given thought to traveling the other path; the only time he had let his guard down.

_Their_ discussions were noteworthy for Sylar. He remembers each conversation, word, tone, use of cultural slang; every piece of dialogue they exchanged and every feeling conjured up. Sylar admits to himself he was temporarily led astray. That will not happen again. It was one moment of weakness that Sylar knows will never be repeated.

Maya's voice is different than –

Not better or worse.

Sylar cannot help but compare them.

Maya's voice is not the same, but Sylar is getting more accustomed to it.

 

********** ********** ********** ********** **********

 

It rises up from the ground like some literary creation from the mind of a madman.

Gotham City.

Home.

Seeing the place where he walked the streets in two different existences, quiet and frustrated Gabriel gave way to the unapologetically driven and self realized man he is now, Sylar feels an odd sense of discombobulation.

It is so unexpected that he misses the flurried exchange in Spanish that rushes between Maya and Alejandro.

It is only when Maya reaches over with her right hand, her left one still gripping the steering wheel, and takes a hold of Sylar's left arm that he returns to his present state in the car.

Her touch is soft and far more intimate than it has any right to be.

Sylar finds this to be an advantageous progression of events. She will do what he asks of her and it _will_ get him his abilities back.

The feel of her hand on his arm reminds him of –

_His _touch was simple and quick; a gesture of friendship Sylar had never experienced before. It was familiar and warm, even when it threatened pain and death. Nerves snapping at each other, it was a schizophrenic, yet not altogether unexpected, slide from kindness to torture.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Through the looking glass and back again.

Maya's touch is straightforward; Sylar has apathetically come to accept her uncomplicated intrusion into his personal space.

 

********** ********** ********** *********** **********

 

The apartment is not that different from the last time Sylar was here.

There is less turned over furniture, broken glass and blood but other than that the only noticeable alteration is the indication that others are living here as well.

Sylar had gotten the twins and himself into the apartment through the age old act of breaking open the front door. The siblings had expressed shock initially, but Maya had quickly followed Sylar's lead as he calmly walked around the apartment. Alejandro had eventually, reluctantly, played along.

Sylar had not realized the sense of belonging he felt within these walls until now.

Alejandro and Maya are sitting on the sofa urgently talking. Sylar guesses they are discussing what they will say to Chandra and muses that it is too bad they will never get that chance.

He is standing by the desk, flipping through some random book he has found sitting on top, when he hears the key in the front lock. Sylar's head shoots up as_ he_ steps through.

In the second that he crosses the threshold between public and private, slamming the door behind him, Mohinder sees his unexpected guests; or at least the one standing ten feet from him, watching him.

The expression of frightened shock on his face is a sight for Sylar's sore eyes.

"Hello Mohinder. It's been awhile," Sylar says with a slight catch in his voice he has no control over.

_Sylar: 1 Mohinder: 0_

Seeing Mohinder again, Sylar unexpectedly feels a sense of uncertainty in being there. He should be feeling sure of himself. He is here for the purpose of Mohinder helping him get his powers back, plain and simple.

It does not escape Sylar's notice that Mohinder is now sporting a broken nose. He thinks to himself that Mohinder has kept quite busy since they last parted ways. The notion of Mohinder's life moving on tugs at Sylar but he pushes the thought as far away as possible.

Mohinder bounces back fast from the surprise at finding Sylar, thought to be dead, hoped to be dead, in his apartment. Unable to hide the nervousness that trips off of his tongue, Mohinder still manages to say, with a certain deliberation, "Gabriel."

Sylar's smirk falters briefly at the mention of his birth name. It is the first time that Mohinder has addressed him as such. Mohinder notices the momentary break in Sylar's façade.

_Sylar: 1 Mohinder: 1_

"Gabriel?...Gabriel?"

Sylar does not hear his questioned name from behind; not until he sees Mohinder's confused eyes glance beyond him, off over his right shoulder.

Sylar feels a light pressure on his right arm. He looks to his side.

Maya is staring into his eyes, her hands grip Sylar's right arm; her voice repeats his name.

Looking at her, Sylar sees nothing.

His skin is numb to her touch. His ears tune her voice so low she may as well be mute.

There is nothing there.

Turning his eyes back to Mohinder, Sylar steps forward, away from Maya, breaking their physical contact.

No one notices Alejandro's curious gaze that goes back and forth between Sylar and Mohinder.

Mohinder's eyes skip along all the occupants standing in his apartment, before settling on Sylar.

Sylar only has eyes for Mohinder.

His focus is tunneled, but something is not right.

There is an imbalance. They are throwing it all off. If he could, right now, Sylar would kill Maya and Alejandro, taking what _should_ be his. Their presence in this apartment is completely wrong.

It should only be him and Mohinder.

These two are unwelcome.

But he cannot kill them, at least not yet.

Sylar sees a flicker of recognition in Mohinder's eyes as they watch each other. The realization of what he is witnessing brings a smile to Sylar's face. He can see that Mohinder knows what he is thinking, even if he does not know it yet. Sylar has found the hole in the wall, he has made note of the foot hole he can use to prop himself up. Mohinder _will _come with him, this Sylar guarantees. It will take time, and Sylar is willing to invest.

Sylar briefly turns his head to look at Maya and Alejandro. The twins will come in handy after all. There was concern in Mohinder's eyes towards them. Sylar notices that, for the first time, Alejandro looks calm as his eyes rest on Mohinder. Sylar also notices that a curious look has taken over Maya's eyes as she figures out that the rules have just changed. Confused, she steps backwards, almost realigning herself with Alejandro.

Only two minutes with Mohinder back in his life and Sylar's brain roars with energy. It has been far too long since he has had to exercise strategic game planning. Not since –

Sylar might not be functioning at one hundred percent yet, but this is the closest he has felt to his old self since Kirby Plaza and before.

Everything he has missed, the daily challenges he had to counter while thinking on his feet, the sparked conversations that stimulated his mind and opened his heart, wild contemplations, words and actions with layered meanings; are now all back on the path in front of him.

As he and Mohinder look at each other again, _really seeing each other again_, Mohinder furrows his brow and Sylar shoots him a smile.

It is good to be back. 


End file.
